Darlene offers you a drink and you accept gratefully. I bite my lip. I feel like a child again – a child in trouble that’s been dragged to the headmistress’s office. It’s not a feeling I particularly enjoy.

“Look, I’m sorry,” I say.

“I’m sorry too,” you say. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. But I shouldn’t have been dismissive of your feelings. We’re acting like kids playing at being adults.”

I inhale deeply and wish I still smoked. Darlene comes back with a cup of coffee for you.